


Second Rate

by SailorChibi



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), SPECTRE (2015)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, SPECTRE Fix-It, Spoilers for SPECTRE, between Bond and Q, between Madeleine and James, implied pining, oblivious bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 13:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5165921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the door opens again, three more people spill into the room. For her benefit, James identifies them as Moneypenny, Tanner and Q. Her attention is arrested by him, this quartermaster, this <i>boy</i>. She watches the way Q watches James and, for the first time, actually goes past understanding and <i>gets it</i>.</p><p>Then Bond laughs at something M says and cockily adds, "He can do it. Our Q has a lot of talent." And his eyes kind of get a little more of that sparkle, and it takes everything she has not to start crying on the spot. Every fragmented thought of what life might have been like from now on goes up in smoke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Rate

**Author's Note:**

> I saw Spectre tonight. It wasn't everything I had hoped for, but it was pretty good. I walked out thinking about Madeleine's reaction and how it might be spun into a 00Q way, and here is the result.

On the flight to London, Madeleine puts her head back and just listens to the soft sound of his voice. The rest of the passengers are sleeping, it's so late at night, and no one else would be interested in a description of people with, frankly, odd sounding names, anyway. M? Q? She understands the desire to keep your real identity a secret, but she doesn't think she could ever reduce herself to just one letter. She left everything behind to avoid doing that.

"You said you weren't alone," she says quietly, when he's finished talking about Q. "Are they what you meant?"

"No. I meant you," he says, and she can tell that he believes it: he really does think he doesn't trust these people, this M and Q and Moneypenny and Tanner, when he so clearly does. The offhand, almost fond way he talks about them all speaks volumes. 

She looks at him sideways. There's a new spark in his eyes, and she wants to think that it's because they're so close to the end. But she's really not sure. So if not that, then who? It's a question she dwells on for the rest of the flight.

When they land, James leads her off the plane and onto British soil for the first time in years. A taxi takes them into the city and drops them off about three blocks away from the safe house. Madeleine shivers, wrapping her arms around herself, and lets herself lean into James as they begin walking the pavement. This late at night, it's cold and damp: a different kind of chill entirely from what she's got used to. The kind that slithers under her skin and down to her bones.

"You're sure they're coming?" she asks when they reach the safe house.

"I'm sure."

And yes, he is. He confidently ushers her over to a place where no one will see her when they first enter, just in case, then takes up a position directly opposite the door. Madeleine spends more time watching him than the door. He's different now. Still on guard, still tense, but at the same time - not relaxed, but more comfortable. This is his territory; he _knows_ London, and he's at home here in a way he'll never be anywhere else. 

In that moment, she fully understands that James Bond will never leave. London runs in his veins. This is what he lives for. No one can understand that better than Madeleine can. She spent enough years with her father to know that. But understanding is a far cry away from... from what?

The door creaks open, a distraction from her thoughts, and an older man comes in. James greets him cordially enough, and she realizes that this is M. When the door opens again, three more people spill into the room. For her benefit, James identifies them as Moneypenny, Tanner and Q. Her attention is arrested by him, this quartermaster, this _boy_. She watches the way Q watches James and, for the first time, actually goes past understanding and _gets it_.

Then James laughs at something M says and cockily adds, "He can do it. Our Q has a lot of talent." And his eyes kind of get a little more of that sparkle, and it takes everything she has not to start crying on the spot. Every fragmented thought of what life might have been like from now on goes up in smoke. 

Madeleine holds it together long enough to say goodbye, because she can do that much for herself: she can be reasonable and kind, and she knows enough to walk away before her heart gets broken. And it will get broken if she stays, if she tries to get between what already exists. 

Because the thing is, James hasn't lied to her. He's attracted to her, and he cares for her, and maybe given enough time he could love her. But none of that really matters when there's already something so much deeper.

Walking away doesn't work out that well; she ends up kidnapped, but James finds her before the building explodes, and together they bring down the helicopter. Madeleine stands on one end of the bridge while MI6 stands on the other, and James stands in the middle with a gun in his hand. When he throws it away and starts walking towards her, she lets herself believe in the fairytale for a precious few seconds. Long enough to let him get close, to smell the soot and dirt and blood.

"No," she says, and takes a step back when he tries to hug her.

His eyebrows draw together and he frowns. "Madeleine?"

God she loves the way he says her name. Madeleine steels herself, looking over his shoulder. Past the crowd of arresting officers and fire fighters, past M, to where the other three are waiting. They look like lost lambs, she thinks unkindly, waiting for a shepherd to return. If it weren't for the fact that she knows James will never be happy with her, she would gladly walk away with him and let them wait forever. She's selfish like that, but apparently not when it comes to James.

She's learning all kinds of new things lately, it seems.

"You don't want me," she says, proud that her voice comes out sounding calm.

"Of course I -"

"Not the way you want him."

His frown grows deeper. "Him? That's over now; he'll go to jail and -"

"Not _him_. Q. Your quartermaster." She wants to laugh at his obvious confusion, but it's still taking all of her remaining strength not to cry. "I made a life out of watching people, James, and seeing beneath the surface. Seeing what they can't see for whatever reason. And what I see between you and him... there's no space for me."

"There's nothing between me and Q," James says, as though the idea is ludicrous.

Madeleine exhales slowly. "I see the way you look at him, the way you talk about him, and if you really believe that then you're even more blind than I thought."

That hurts him. He actually flinches a little, and her heart aches. She wants to hug and kiss him so badly, but she's been here before. Sometimes short term pain is better in the long run; she had to extract herself from her father, who loved his job more than her, and now she'll do it with this man, who loves a quartermaster and London more than her. 

"This is what you want," she says, gesturing over his shoulder. "This is what you chose, and it's not because you haven't had the opportunity for something different. It's just... what you want. And I understand that. So I'm saying goodbye now, so I don't have to watch you do it later."

"Madeleine, you've got this all wrong. The double-O program is finished, and there is _nothing_ between me and Q. I don't know what you think you've seen, but it's just - it's shock, that's all." He reaches out like he might grab her, and she slaps him across the face and threatens him with a warning finger.

"Stop telling me I'm in shock, James Bond. You're in love with your job and London and your car and Q, and I don't want to compete." She takes a second step back, and then a third, before turning her back on him and striding away. 

"Madeleine!" he calls after her.

She makes herself keep going.

\--

Nearly two weeks to the day after Bond was last seen taking off on foot into the depths of London, Q is sitting by himself in his workshop. He rests his chin on one hand and taps half-heartedly at his laptop with the other, playing around with the idea of reawakening the smart nano technology in Bond's blood to get a fix on his location. M told him to delete all of it to keep C from getting the data, and Q did - but nothing is ever really deleted, not in this day and age. 

It's a bad idea. Bond doesn't want to be found. Moneypenny said as much to M and Tanner that night, stopping them both from pursuing Bond. "If he wants to come back, he will. If he doesn't want to come back, there's no point in chasing him. You'll only succeed in pushing him away."

She's right, that's the thing, and Q sighs as he straightens up and grabs his coffee mug. The coffee inside is cold by now, but he drinks it anyway. He closes the files on his laptop and opens up the specs for a new watch, which will be an improved version of the one that he gave Bond before. He's just started assembling the tools necessary to actually build it when he hears the lift.

His mouth drops open when the doors open, and he stares in stunned silence as James Bond steps out. Bond looks around the workshop, straightening his jacket. Just from the cut, Q can tell he's armed. Well, of course he is - double-O agents always are. Except none of them have been sure, up until now, whether Bond even wanted to be a double-O agent anymore.

"B-Bond?" he finally manages to squeak.

"Hello, Q."

"Where the hell have you been?" Q demands, regaining his composure. "And what the hell are you doing here?"

"That's a warm welcome." Bond doesn't look at him, just walks right over and picks up a knife. He's the only agent who does this, just touches Q's things like it's his due, and Q scowls. He takes the knife out of Bond's hands and gently sets it back down, avoiding the blade. It's been dipped in a rare poison that causes paralysis upon touch. The last thing he needs is to paralyze Bond, or worse yet end up paralyzed himself while Bond goes on a thieving spree.

"It's a perfectly apt welcome, I think," Q says waspishly, looking up at him. He flinches when he realizes just how close he and Bond are. Much closer than necessity dictates. He goes to take a step backwards, but Bond's hand on his arm stops him.

"Madeleine said something unusual to me that night," he says, almost conversationally, like he's not reeling Q in. His other hand slips around Q's back, hot palm spread out against the curve of Q's spine, and Q swallows hard when their chests make impact. This close, he can smell Bond's cologne. He can see the faint remains of bruises on Bond's face. He can feel the heat of Bond's body, even through the layers of their clothing.

"Did she?" he says, nearly a whisper. "And what might that be?"

Bond looks at him for a long time. His eyes are startlingly blue. When he moves, it's slow, with ample time for Q to move away if he wants to. He doesn't. Bond's lips are dry and chapped, and he kisses with a slow intimacy, like this is their thousandth kiss instead of their first. Q's stomach flips and he grabs the front of Bond's jacket for balance. His heart is racing as he kisses back, tipping his head up. 

"That must have been a revelation," he says, when Bond finally pulls back. His mouth feels bruised. He's hot all over now. All those hours and he'd never once thought this would actually happen. He doesn't know what to do with himself.

"It was unexpected," Bond replies. "I thought she was wrong at first. About you, I mean. Not so much about London or our job."

"And now?"

"I'm coming around to her point of view." His mouth quirks into the start of a smirk, and Q's always wanted to kiss that bloody smirk away. So he does, using the hand on Bond's jacket to yank him down. 

"I'm not a replacement for her," he says against Bond's lips, because he needs that to be clear.

The hand on his back tightens. "No. You can't be a replacement if you were here first."

Q can work with that. "Fair enough. I still hate you, though, for the record."

Bond just smirks again, the smug arse. "No, you don't."

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


End file.
